Trumpets
by an-alternate-world
Summary: He freezes when a familiar voice booms out of the sound system hidden in the corners of the pub; "Blaine Anderson, this one's for you."


**Title: **Trumpets  
><strong>Author: <strong>an-alternate-world  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>CharactersPairing: **Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 977  
><strong>Summary:<strong> He freezes when a familiar voice booms out of the sound system hidden in the corners of the pub; "Blaine Anderson, this one's for you."  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers:** None.  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I am in no way associated with Glee, FOX, Ryan Murphy or anything else related to the FOX universe..

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><p><em><strong>Anis<strong> (**anisstaranise**) on Tumblr prompted a fic starting with the sentence: He freezes when a familiar voice booms out of the sound system hidden in the corners of the pub; "Blaine Anderson, this one's for you."_

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><p>He desperately attempts to hide himself, to shrink into the booth and cloak himself in the comforting swathes of shadows. He wants to inconspicuously lower his head to his arms and pretend that if no one can see him, then he can't see them. He doesn't exist in this space right now. He's not truly here.<p>

But he _does_ exist in this space, and he can feel his face heating more and more as Sebastian slurs his way through an extremely sexual song. He can't even bring himself to peek up at Sebastian because he's pretty sure the other boy is swaying his hips in something both suggestive and lewd and even though Blaine knows he's a cheap drunk - and he has a much better tolerance than Sebastian - he also has to guess that something pretty disastrous must have happened to Sebastian to cause him to drink this much, get this wasted, and sing _Trumpets _by Jason Derulo for heaven's sake.

He's actually not even sure if Sebastian knows he's here tonight. He'd hidden away in the corner soon after arriving, allowing the waitress to replace his warm, almost-finished beer with a fresh one a while ago and giving him a new label to pick at.

But Sebastian's warbling his way through the song and though it's sexual, though blood seeps into his face to the extent that he's not sure it will ever leave - which isn't unusual when it comes to Sebastian - he also feels a stab of hurt when he suspects something's wrong with Sebastian and that's why he's up there singing a song, dedicated to him, when he doesn't think Sebastian knows he's here.

He abandons his bottle of beer and strides towards the stage as the closing strains of the song play through the speakers. There's a smattering of drunken applause as he approaches the stage and he can see Sebastian's eyes are closed, his body swaying slightly on the spot. Should he take Sebastian to his home like this? Should he make Sebastian sleep in the backseat of his car? He has no idea what he should be doing here.

"Hey." He reaches out and grasps Sebastian's elbow. Green eyes snap open, and though they're hazy with alcohol, they widen as they attempt to focus on his face.

"Killer?" Sebastian slurs, reaching for his face and missing so badly that his hand ends up on Blaine's shoulder. "You- You're here?"

He sighs and nods, accepting that Sebastian had dedicated a song to him without actually knowing he'd been lurking in the shadows. It does nothing to ease his worry about the other boy.

"How about we get you out of here?" he says, wrapping a solid arm around Sebastian's waist and guiding him through the throngs of people that wink or leer or whoop at them. Can't they see Sebastian's _drunk_? Blaine's not going to do anything more than feed him water and Advil and push a pillow under Sebastian's head tonight.

Sebastian attempts to protest getting into Blaine's car but he ignores it, shoving the other boy into the passenger seat and buckling him in before he walks around to his own side. Sebastian's humming the trumpet part of the song he'd been singing, gazing out the window as if the street lamps are the sun.

"Did you like my song?" Sebastian asks suddenly, distracting Blaine entirely from getting home in one piece.

"It was…an interesting song choice," he answers carefully, turning right and checking his rear vision mirror so he didn't focus on Sebastian squirming his hips in the seat beside him.

"You're just so _hot_," Sebastian muses, his tone almost sounding like he's making a complaint. "I just wanna fuc-"

"Okay!" he interrupts, grabbing at Sebastian's arm so quickly he nearly drives them off the road. It's a good thing no one else is around this late to collide with. "Okay. Just… How about we just keep our thoughts to ourselves tonight, okay?"

Sebastian smiles dopily, so serene Blaine feels bad for him. Sebastian seems broken and hurt, filled with a pain Blaine can only partially understand but not even begin to guess at the cause for. Because he…he wanted - wants? - to…have sex with Blaine? He blushes at the thought.

He arrives at his apartment and helps Sebastian inside, guiding him to the couch where he fetches a blanket and pillow. Sebastian offers a miserable sort of smile.

"I like you so much," Sebastian whispers as he lays his head down, his eyes swimming around as he struggles to focus on anything for long. "Why haven't you ever liked me?"

And Blaine understands.

There's a dull ache in his chest as he watches Sebastian's eyes flutter closed, his breathing evening out as he drifts into a drunken stupor of a sleep. Sebastian _likes_ him and he's pretty sure the other boy would be mortified to know he'd drunkenly confessed such a thing but….Blaine's glad he had. He's not sure he's ever really seen Sebastian with his walls down long enough for Blaine to see past them - which isn't a short joke, it just speaks to how guarded Sebastian always is about his feelings.

He spends most of the night replaying Sebastian's words, analysing his own feelings for the boy, but he must fall asleep at some point because when he wakes in the morning, his couch is empty and the blanket is folded neatly beneath the pillow.

He wonders if Sebastian wondered where he was and left or if he remembered where he was, what he'd said, and fled.

There were so many things he was afraid to know about Sebastian Smythe. It seemed he had another to add to the list.

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><p><em><strong>~FIN~<strong>_


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